Intended Actions
by Mistress 259
Summary: Shalnark's musings during the last night of the Yorkshin auction. Not related to my other HxH fics.


**Warnings**: Knowledge of _Hunter x Hunter_ and its nen concepts helpful. Implied m x m, but no action.

**Author's Notes:** This takes place in York Shin, the last night of the auction. A one-shot fic unrelated to either my _Hunt_ fic or my _x x _fics. Written as a gift fic for lynlyn. Love ya, my doppelganger! And, this didn't exactly end how I intended it to, but blame that on Syar and Curarpikt. They took over the fic, I swear! ... well, maybe it didn't help that I started the journey without a proper destination...

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* * *

Intended Actions** -by Mistress 259 

The man with the obvious toupee... he would make him whip it off and shove it down the cleavage of the fat woman in the pink dress.

The pink dress... he would get the tall security guard into it and make him dance with the short man in the hideous green suit.

Oh, that woman in the red dress would look better naked.

Hmm, so would that black-haired man with the killer eyes.

"Syar, pay attention!"

The tall brunette turned slowly to blink into the well-endowed torso of Phalknothdk. He grinned and let his eyes drift up to her irritated grimace.

"That was the last item. Time to wrap up!"

"Right. Sorry, that last one lasted forever," Syarnorke mumbled. He stood up from the empty crate he had been sitting on and directed the auctioneer off of the stage. "Time to deliver the goods."

One by one, nondescript men in dark suits came to claim the items for their employers. Each man confirmed the item, made the payment, and left. Syarnorke's mind wandered again as the monotony continued.

The man with the atrocious haircut... he would make him...

Syarnorke stopped, mid-thought as a figure unlike any of the others approached the table. No dark suit, first of all. Instead, an unusual outfit of blue, gold, and white. And no nondescript man. This one was a beauty. A young man? Young woman? He couldn't tell for certain, even when the figure spoke.

"I'm here for item number 38." The voice was a soft tenor.

Syarnorke watched as Phynkss set a tall box upon the table. He removed the lid, and the sides of the box fell outwards.

"Please confirm that this is the item that was bid upon," the tall man said.

The blond-haired youth gazed at the floating Eyes for a long moment. Syarnorke would have sworn that he saw a hint of sorrow. Too sentimental. Obviously too young and too soft to be working for the mafia.

"Yes, this is it."

"This way, please," Phalknothdk said, directing the youth to the other end of the table to complete the transaction.

Phynkss re-sealed the box and set it beside the blond.

"...Thank you," the youth said quietly and picked it up.

Syarnorke watched as the youth left the room. He pushed away from the wall and started to move forward. A hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Hey, where are you going?" Phynkss growled.

"My job here is done. I'll meet you guys back at the hideout," Syarnorke responded, eyes on the door the youth had gone through.

Phynkss followed his gaze. He rolled his eyes. "That kid?" He released Syarnorke's shoulder and shrugged. "Man, I don't get your taste. If you're gonna go for girly-looking ones, why not just go for a girl?"

"I like them both." Syarnorke glanced at the taller man. "You're sure that one was a 'he?'"

The man snorted. "Of course. I'd smell it if it was a woman."

"Thanks," Syarnorke grinned at the other Ryodan member and crossed the room in several long strides.

"Don't do anything stupid!" he heard Phalknothdk call behind him.

His grin widened.

The boy hadn't gotten very far. In fact, he was standing several yards away in front of a wall and staring at the box in his hands. His body was taut with tension.

Syarnorke approached the boy at an angle, giving the blond the chance to notice his approach. Dark eyes flicked briefly in his direction, then went back to the box. Syarnorke stopped when he was standing beside the boy.

"Hey," he greeted cheerfully.

The boy sighed heavily and looked up. His eyes were an unusual grey-black that looked a bit too intense with the pale skin and blond hair. "Yes?" he inquired wearily.

"Thought you could use some cheering up. Can I buy you a drink?"

Blond lashes flickered several times in surprise. The dark eyes narrowed a moment later. "I'm not a girl."

Syarnorke grinned. "Of course, not."

The blond raised one brow and sniffed softly. "... Oh." He shifted slightly. "I need to deliver this item to my boss." He started to move away, attempting to end the conversation.

"I can go with you, then we can get a drink," Syarnorke suggested, stepping in the boy's path.

"I don't think so."

"What could it hurt? A friendly drink among potential friends?"

The boy surprised Syarnorke with, "I have no need of friends."

The man let one corner of his lips rise slightly. "Isn't that a bit cold? Surely, you must have a friend or two."

The boy's expression softened minutely, but he didn't respond. Instead, he tried to step around Syarnorke.

"Oh, come on. I'm only here for another day, you're probably leaving with your boss now that the auction is over, and..." Syarnorke grinned mischievously. "Everyone has to have _some_ fun every now and then."

"I'm not interested," the blond said firmly, exhaling wearily the next moment. "Please, I have a job to do. Might I suggest that you find yourself another source of... fun?"

He moved away, and this time Syarnorke let him, watching the alluring swing of the blue overskirt as the boy left.

Fun. Syarnorke contemplated the word and let his mind explore the possibility. One well-placed nen antenna, and he could make the boy do his bidding.

Perhaps, dance for him. A slow strip-tease.

Or feed Syarnorke with those delicate fingers.

Or...

"Syar." The syllable was a sound of complete exasperation.

The man looked up to find Phynkss regarding him, partly in annoyance, partly in amusement.

"Yes?" Syarnorke asked cheerfully.

"If you're done fooling around, or making a complete fool of yourself," Phynkss snickered, "can we go back now?"

"I wasn't making a fool of myself."

"Right. And you weren't just totally rejected by a kid," the tall man returned, rolling his eyes. "Now, let's get out of here."

Syarnorke sighed and followed Phynkss, but not before getting one last look over his shoulder in the direction the young blond had gone. He shrugged, then put the boy out of his mind.

Or, partially.

... he would make the boy rub his feet and ...

* * *

The nen bullet came as surprise, but not nearly as much as the accompanying memories and information did. Syarnorke heard himself growl quietly as he saw the image of the Chain Guy. A familiar figure, a familiar face.

As the onslaught of memories faded, Syarnorke chuckled silently.

Of all the people... Well, that would certainly explain the sorrow.

"She's dead," Chzzck said. Her voice raised slightly. "Why? What's going on?"

Phynkss stepped forward, stance rigid. "I'll explain."

Syarnorke only half-listened, hands in his pocket. He fingered his phone, the controller that allowed him to take over the bodies of others.

One well-placed nen antenna would be all it would take.

He smiled grimly, his thoughts once more on what he would make the blond do.

This time, though, his plans went in a decidedly more violent direction.


End file.
